


burning deep inside my veins

by wickedlittleoz



Series: bad, bad medicine [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, First Time Bottoming, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlittleoz/pseuds/wickedlittleoz
Summary: He probably wouldn’t be able to look at the other two in school for weeks after this.





	burning deep inside my veins

It was a chilly night, but he could barely feel the cold. The heated pool drew clouds of warmth over the surface and Jonathan laughed while Steve and Billy, both just as drunk as he was, ran around the pool. They had been at it for a while, playing catch as if they were all kids again, but Jonathan got too clumsy when he was drunk, so he just threw his head back in laughter from the safety of his chair.

They had just ran past Jonathan when Billy grabbed Steve by the waist and carried him into the pool. The two fell with a large splash; some water even got to Jonathan’s feet. He booed and downed the rest of his beer.

Saturday night meant that he’d been at Steve’s for 24h now. Part of him wanted or at least knew he had to go home, but that part was foggy from alcohol at the moment, so it was hard to focus on the thought. The things that mattered right now were that Steve’s fridge was full of expensive beer, Jonathan’s system was running on about four cans of said beer, and Hargrove was actually _fun_ when he wasn’t too busy being a dick.

He got up to his feet, a little too fast, his head spun a little, and made it back to the kitchen on wobbly knees.

This weekend hadn’t been exactly what he’d bargained for when he showed up at Steve’s door the night before. Jonathan could’ve never guessed that this could be his kind of fun – three boys locked inside all weekend, fooling around, drinking, getting shamelessly intimate the way they’d all been told so many times boys shouldn’t.

He didn’t care for being called a queer, a fag. Didn’t think of it a sin or a terrible thing. But Steve and Billy both obviously did. So he was surprised to find that the two were together.

(And it hurt a little, to be honest. Jonathan _had_ a weakness for Steve, a crush of sorts, something he didn’t even think about much because it made him feel like the world’s worst boyfriend, but it was there and Steve clearly had it the same for _Billy Hargrove_.)

He realized the laughter had died outside. It was mostly silent, if not for the soft sloshing of the pool. Juggling three cans in his hands, Jonathan spun around and walked back to the patio to find the other two kissing. Steve’s arms tightly wound around Hargrove’s neck, soft gasps the only sound leaving their mouths. He felt like an intruder, which still happened whenever he walked in on them alone.

Jonathan popped the cap of his beer and downed half the can in one swig, decided to drown the thing twisting in his stomach at the view. Steve heard it, though, opened his eyes and motioned with a hand for him to join. The jealousy bug had him shrugging off his shirt and jeans quickly, sliding into the pool with them.

Hargrove was a bit territorial when it came to Steve, growling and stepping between the other two all the time. At the moment, though, Jonathan was drunk enough to ignore that and press against Steve’s back, mouth immediately falling to his damp shoulder. Steve moaned softly, a small thing that sent sparks down Jonathan’s groin, and Billy pulled back from the kiss with a chuckle.

“There you are, Byers,” he said in that dangerous tone that meant his dirty mind was plotting something that would have Jonathan blushing just to hear about.

He should have seen it coming, though. Should have given Hargrove more credit, because it’s not like he hadn’t been eyeing and touching and even kissing him whenever he could – and clearly reeling in the way Jonathan practically _melted_ into the kisses, because he worked that tongue like a goddamn sin.

Just earlier that night he had pressed against Jonathan’s back as he stirred the pot of boiling soup (the only thing still not expired in Steve’s kitchen), skin so warm even with two layers of fabric between them. Mouthed with plush, wet lips at his nape. Laughed softly when he shivered.

But Jonathan had figured it was all about power and reminding who’s in control, who’s being kind enough to _share_ Steve.

This was, after all, about Steve.

(Or at least that’s what Jonathan liked to believe.)

Now, as his hand slid past Steve’s waist and down into the front of Jonathan’s briefs, Hargrove smirked and licked his lips, and whispered _we missed you_ in a way that had Jonathan thinking _maybe_ there was something more.

 

Somehow they made it up to Steve’s bedroom. Once all three of them were painfully hard in their trunks, panting and swearing and craving touch, Hargrove insisted they moved upstairs. Jonathan didn’t understand. Steve didn’t fight.

It was clumsy and they almost toppled down the stairs twice, but laughed it off.

Usually it was Steve who pulled them both to himself at once, greedily begging to feel the two pairs of hands and lips on his skin – and they orbited around him like he was the center of their universe, eventually colliding on their course. But this time it was Hargrove who snaked an arm around Jonathan’s waist, free hand curling into his hair and lips crashing against his in a bruising kiss that had him grinding involuntarily into Billy’s thigh.

Jonathan breathed him in, a damp mix of chloride and beer and smoke. He lacked the typical cologne, but the natural musk of his skin hinted bellow, and it scared him that he’d already come to recognize what Billy smelled like – worse, he _liked_ it.

They broke for air and Billy’s eyes, pupils blown, glinted with so much lust that Jonathan’s stomach grew cold with anticipation. When Billy lunged forward to kiss him again, though, Steve grabbed them both by the wrists and tugged them into his bedroom.

Shaky hands slid wet underwear off all three bodies. Gasps and soft moans and hungry eyes as they stood naked in the low light. Steve reached for him, lips already parted and hooded eyes, pushed their hips together and Jonathan hissed before closing the distance between their mouths.

He could have cried with how much he wanted this – _them_. His body ached and burned as the feeling coursed through him. Jonathan reached a hand out for Billy, fingers digging into the blond curls and tugging him closer, closer, until his hot skin pressed against his side.

Billy dipped his face into Steve’s neck. The fingers of Steve’s hand on Jonathan’s shoulder suddenly dug harder into the skin and he gasped into the kiss with every nibble that Hargrove marked him. He murmured the filthiest of things, about how hard they made him, how he wanted to fuck them until neither of them could move or breathe. His fingers, a hot brand between Jonathan’s shoulder blades.

Steve pulled back from the kiss, breathed into his mouth as their foreheads pressed. “You’re killing me,” he whispered when Hargrove’s nose nuzzled his cheek.

“Not intentionally,” he laughed, chasing Steve’s mouth. With a soft peck of their lips, Steve untangled himself from the other two and stepped back.

Jonathan would have agreed, had he found his voice. He liked being with them, but it was still a bit overwhelming sometimes. Like right now, under the hot gaze of Hargrove’s blue irises as they raked down his body and back up like he could eat Jonathan up.

Fairly, the amount of attention he was getting that night was making him want to curl into a hole as much as it made him blush and greedily hope for more.

As Steve moved away from them to meddle with his cassette player, Hargrove stepped forward and Jonathan, acting on instinct, took a matching step back. And then another, and another, until the back of his calves hit the mattress and he fell on the bed. He chuckled, lightheaded on alcohol and lust, as Billy crawled onto the bed and over him, settled between his parted thighs and kissed his jaw up to his ear.

“Johnny Boy,” Billy called into his ear, voice strained and heavy and _dark_ over the music suddenly blaring from Steve’s expensive sound system. Guitar riffs on the stereo and the bass of Billy’s voice. Jonathan hummed in response while all the hair on his body immediately stood on end. “Wanna fuck you.”

He might have _whined_. His dick definitely twitched in interest. He breathed heavily through his mouth, head reeling with Billy’s words, clutched harder at his shoulders.

The promise in Hargrove’s words was tangible and heavy. It made him feel too hot and too cold at the same time as Jonathan remembered the blissful expression in Steve’s face whenever he had Billy inside him.

“I’ve never.” He stopped. Swallowed. “Never… Before.”

Billy’s thumb stroked his chin and up his lips, pushed into his mouth, eyes focused and dark. He could _taste_ the air. As they stared into each other’s face, he realized a little too quickly that he wanted it, despite the thought never crossing his mind before.

To his right, the mattress dipped as Steve climbed on. “What did I miss?” He asked, suddenly sitting next to them, chin resting casually on Hargrove’s shoulder.

Billy licked his lips, glanced quickly at Steve, then back at Jonathan, and grinned. “We’re popping Jonathan’s cherry, baby.”

 

The feeling was… Different. Not bad, but not completely enjoyable. As Hargrove’s index finger (so thick he had to look to make sure he wasn’t pushing two at once) wormed into him, Jonathan’s body tried to force it out. But the boy was patient and continued to push slowly until it was all the way in and he stopped. Breathed, reminding Jonathan that he had to, as well.

“That was good, right?” Steve asked somewhere above him and Jonathan swallowed because he wasn’t sure.

“Give him time,” Billy responded and kissed softly at the low of Jonathan’s back, and for a moment he wondered if he would ever stopped being surprised by how _careful_ with others Hargrove could actually be.

He sighed, feeling relaxed as Billy pressed comforting kisses up his spine and Steve’s fingers carded through his hair. Jonathan nodded quietly and felt the tip of another finger start pushing in as Billy’s breathing quickened just a heartbeat.

“You tell me,” Billy whispered, suddenly at his ear, and Jonathan moaned into Steve’s chest. “Tell me if I should stop.”

He just nodded, incapable at the moment of anything else.

They had time, he told himself, all the time in the world. To wait until this burning sensation turned into whatever had the other two rolling their eyes back when they were being fucked. Whatever had them begging and sometimes actually crying.

The fingers slid in to the second knuckle and he breathed out, feeling himself adjust around them. There was a quiet warning of _I wanna try something_ before Billy started to curl them, slowly at first, but (to Jonathan’s surprise, too) he found less and less resistance, so he got bold. Pushing deeper and curling, like he was looking for something, until—

“ _Ah!_ ”

“Breathe,” Steve shooed, but his voice was tense, like he was holding back.

There were tears in his eyes. He tucked his face into Steve’s neck to hide the blush and realized he was digging his nails a little too hard into his chest. He’d been a second from making a mess of himself way too fast. Billy’s fingers brushed against _something_ that sent sparks everywhere, made his cock jolt and nearly give, made _sense_ of everything.

There was only a minute for catching his breath until Billy did it again. His hips responded on their own accord, rolling back for more, for the friction of his cock pressed into Steve’s thigh. Something coiled in his stomach, taut and hot.

“Billy,” he breathed, not even taking notice that for the first time the name rolled of his tongue naturally. “Fuck, don’t stop, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” he purred, pulling his fingers out. “Not yet.”

He groaned at the loss, frustration washing over his every nerve end. There was a chuckle and Billy bit into the swell of his ass before moving away.

Steve’s arms were suddenly winding tighter around his waist, then, pulling him closer. Jonathan could melt for him, he realized with a start, pressing small kisses along his jaw, then into his mouth. The tip of an experimenting finger traced his loose hole and he hissed, grinded into Steve’s thigh.

“You looked so beautiful,” he murmured into Jonathan’s mouth. “Took it so well. All laid out for me to watch.”

“There’s more to take.” Billy knelt behind him again, slapped his hip warningly, “Think you can handle it, Johnny Boy?”

“I’m sure he can.” Steve laughed, helping him adjust into kneeling position. Billy quickly pressed closer.

He felt the tip of his cock lining with his hole and realized he’d put on a condom – which he was suddenly thankful for. There was a pause where he felt a chill up his spine again, realized what was about to happen. Billy held his hip and pressed his lips into Jonathan’s shoulder.

“You ready?” His voice was muffled. Jonathan nodded and began to lower himself onto him, slowly, guided by the three hands on his hips.

The fingers had barely prepared him for the real thing. He felt full, so full, like he could taste Billy in his mouth. It took minutes, but then he finally felt Billy’s thighs under his own and the three of them breathed at the same time.

(They had gotten good at falling into the same rhythm of breathing, he noticed, always finding each other’s pace even when it picked up because someone was getting too close to climaxing.)

His ass burned and Steve was at his ear in no time, telling him again how good he was doing, how beautiful he looked. Jonathan didn’t feel beautiful at all, he was covered in sweat and he _could barely breathe_ , sandwiched between them and so fucking full. But the way Steve said it made him want to believe, so he did. Let his world be reduced to that one bedroom with those two boys until he regained his breath.

When he opened his eyes, Steve’s were burning holes into his face. He felt himself blush under the gaze and Steve smiled secretively. Placing his hands on his shoulders for leverage, Jonathan pushed himself up merely an inch of two, then slid down again. Something inside Billy’s chest rumbled and he felt the tremor on his skin.

Billy’s hand slid up his stomach and chest, curled around his neck, pulling his head back so his lips lined with Jonathan’s ear. “How’s it feel?” He asked, voice so low and dark he doubted Steve could hear, even as he sat so close.

“So good,” he whispered in response, feeling downright dirty and vulgar as he rolled his hips tentatively.

(He probably wouldn’t be able to look at the other two in school for weeks after this.)

It felt like the breath being knocked out of him as Billy thrusted upwards into him. He groaned, grip firm on Steve’s shoulders, begged for more. And Billy gave him.

All thoughts were wiped from his mind as Billy thrusted into him, deeper each time, Steve’s hands on his hips helping him move up and down on his cock. It was all so filthy, the amount of hands on him, his own dick bobbing freely, pre-cum splattering on his stomach. The sounds of skin on skin, their groans of pleasure, the bed about to give from all the weight and the action.

But it was _good_. The warmth of those two bodies, of Billy’s cock and the way it filled him like his ass was made for taking it. Steve latched onto his still exposed neck, pressing impossibly closer, legs tangling over his and Billy’s. Sucked and bit, and licked over marks that would have him struggling to find clothes that could hide them. Squeezed his and Jonathan’s dicks between their torsos, and he saw stars when he felt them slide dryly.

There was so much to take in. This was the experience of a lifetime, he realized, watching Steve abandon his neck to kiss Billy over his shoulder, feeling both of them move around (and inside) him, head clouding with lust and _completion_.

“I’m gonna c-come,” he announced and Steve nodded, crashed their foreheads together, but he barely registered the pain. He breathed into his mouth, getting closer closer _closer_ with each thrust, electricity running in his veins, muscles taut and balls tight with the need for release.

He felt Billy adjust under him, change the angle, one of his arms thrown around his and Steve’s waists to keep them all locked together. The next thrust hit on that same spot from before and he didn’t even try to hold back the cry of _yes, yes_.

He felt teeth on his shoulder, knew they were Billy’s because Steve’s face was still glued to his. In this new angle, he hit that spot with every thrust, and in the back of his head Jonathan was aware that this position was probably hard for Billy to hold, but he was too far gone to move or even hold his weight now.

Steve’s head dropped forward. Jonathan opened his eyes, blinked back the tears. Realized he was clawing at his back probably a little too hard and smoothed down the red marks. The lower his hand slid, the more he felt Steve shiver against his chest. There was almost no resistance when he tried to push his middle finger into the furl of Steve’s hole, dry and a little awkward, but enough to make him moan and shudder.

It was finally too much, then. Jonathan came with a final thrust, constellations dancing in his eyes, and Billy followed short, with Steve climaxing last, all within less than a minute. They were a mess of tangled limbs and members, then, trying to catch their breaths and regain the notion of which body parts belonged to who.

Steve pulled back first, helped Jonathan off Billy’s lap. As they lay on the aftermath of “popping Jonathan’s cherry”, they heard Billy chuckle and Jonathan threw an arm over his face, immediately felt himself blush all over again.

“What?” Steve asked, smiling already.

Billy searched the bedside table for his pack of smokes, lit one up and took a long drag before responding. He passed it over to Steve, let his fingers linger on Jonathan’s hipbone where he lay between the other two, and smiled still a little drunkenly.

“I guess Hawkins isn’t so bad after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Alice Cooper's "Poison".  
> This is an extra!! To the bad, bad medicine series which I had not planned. But the dearest @Rebldomakr commented on part 3 that they'd love to see "Billy fucking Jonathan silly" and, well, it would be so mean and rude of me to deny such a beautiful request. Sure it took me three months to get it out, but. It's here now! Heheh. Unbeta'd, as always.
> 
> Honestly I'm still overwhelmed at the response this series got, okay, so thANK YOU ALL AGAIN!!!  
> I hope this serves your needs of Bottom!Jonathan XDD
> 
> Find me @wickedlittleoz on Tumblr.


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